The parents of my late partner Jason showed up at my door wanting the keys to his house, which I never thought would happen. After years of ignoring his land, their sudden interest in it made me feel a lot of different things.
Even though I was sad, I chose to face them, but only if they could answer the questions that kept Jason up at night in his last days.
As I dug deeper into the past, I remembered the day Jason got to my door. He was a youngster with a broken heart because his parents had left him. My family took him in, and we couldn’t live without each other. We helped each other out with our flaws and strengths, and our relationship got stronger every day.
When Jason was told he had bone cancer, I was his rock and worked several jobs to keep our business and home running. His parents, on the other hand, were not there and never reached out to help their son.
After Jason died, their sudden desire to buy his stuff seemed like an unfair joke. They said they owned it because they were related, but I knew they were lying. Jason gave me ownership because he knew they would be greedy.
I gave them a choice: they could either answer for what they did in the past, or I would think about their request. But their answers were too fake, and I could see the same sadness in their eyes that made them leave Jason years ago.
Their lawyer could tell that their claims would not be heard, so they left, which made me feel both relieved and sad. I had kept Jason’s heritage safe, but at what cost? The experience gave me a win that was both sweet and bitter, because it reminded me of the love and loss I had been through.
